Complexities of Love
by agentjedi
Summary: Anakin comes to terms with his new existence, and learns new lessons in the Force in a most unusual way. ADULT CONTENT
1. Homecoming

**READER ADVISORY**

The following story contains adult themes and relationships between people of the same sex. If that's not something you like reading, there's plenty of other fics to peruse.

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**TITLE:** Complexities of Love  
**AUTHOR:** agentj  
**STATUS:** complete  
**DATE WRITTEN:** November-December 2005, January 2006  
**CATEGORY:** Challenge (Obi-Wan/Anakin: post ROTJ, reunion. For LJ community slashfest, December 2005)  
**CHARACTERS:** Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi; Minor: Yoda, Qui-Gon Jinn, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa  
**TIMEFRAME:** Post-Saga: post-_Return of the Jedi_  
**CONTENT WARNING:** adult themes, same sex pairing  
**SUMMARY:** Anakin comes to terms with his new existence, and learns new lessons in the Force in a most unusual way.  
**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** I intended this to be light, but the characters kept insisting on being angsty. Moreover, I really wanted to do something that wasn't smut, but something sensual, almost spiritual.  
**DISCLAIMER:** Whoa, buddy! If you think George Lucas had anything to do with this, you're a sad, sad person. Good thing I'm not doing this for money!  
**THANKS TO:** hellooban for the beta

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**PART 1 - Homecoming**

"You were right," he gasped, trying desperately to keep his son in sight. Luke seemed to stretch further and further away as he felt himself slip down a long, dark tunnel. "Tell your sister—you were right."

Anakin felt himself slip down into the abyss. The warm arms of eternal sleep wrapped themselves around his tortured torso and caressed his brow, slipping their fingers into his hair—

Wait. His _hair_?

Slowly, Anakin turned his head and opened his eyes, blinking against the soft, golden light that streamed in from the windows of Obi-Wan's sleeping quarters in the Temple.

_Obi-Wan!_

Anakin's hands hooked around the bare masculine arms that held him firmly against the other man's chest. His breath quickened as he felt the soft pulse of a familiar presence through the Force.

Obi-Wan's tapered fingers continued to caress Anakin's cheek, the older man sending reassurances to the other like gentle waves through the Force.

The rustle of the bed clothes drew Anakin's attention downward, and he felt the warmth of two powerful legs wrapping themselves around his. Anakin responded with a perplexed frown when he realised he could feel the soft downy hairs against his skin. To affirm what he felt was real, Anakin lifted his right arm and stared at it. Although he wasn't entirely sure his eyes were working properly now that the red haze he had become accustomed was gone, the colour was undeniable—Anakin's limbs were flesh again.

He struggled to turn himself, but try as he might, Anakin couldn't face his former master. He was still too weak from his ordeal, so instead he allowed himself to relax against the masculine chest beneath him, soothed by the quiet rise and fall of the other man's breathing. With a soft smile, Anakin lowered his head back into the crook of Obi-Wan's familiar neck and shoulder, reveling in the sensual pleasure of being held, being warm, and being home. His own breath slowed until it matched Obi-Wan's, and soon he was fast asleep.

* * *

"Ani?" a voice, somehow both strange and familiar at the same time, called to him from a distance. It was the voice of a man he had thought once long forgotten, a voice soothing yet commanding, kind yet stern, a voice known only to his childhood. Anakin stirred at the sound of it, but paid it no heed. Suddenly the voice was against his ear, strong and insistent. "Anakin. Wake up."

Anakin's eyes flew open as he bolted up in bed. The cool air of the darkened bed chamber prickled his bare skin as the bed clothes fell away. Blinking rapidly, Anakin's eyes darted about the room, momentarily confused. Suddenly the only sound in the room—or more accurately, the lack thereof—jolted Anakin's memory.

He peered down at his heaving chest. The tips of his fingers traced along the contours of his muscles, lightly touching the areolas that had hardened in the cool air, feeling sensations he hadn't felt in a very long time. His bronze skin was perfect—flawless. Gone were the deep scars and the durasteel monstrosity that intruded into his lungs, regulating every breath he took. Even the old war wounds and blaster burns he had suffered had been erased.

With new-found sense of wonder, Anakin stood and examined his entire body, head to foot. His hands luxuriously gripped his member like the embrace of a long-forgotten friend, enjoying the feel of real skin against skin of the first time again in decades.

Opening his eyes after drinking in the pleasure of his touch, Anakin caught a reflection of himself in the darkening transparasteel. His unruly tawny curls stuck out in every direction as they were wont to do when he rose from slumber. His skin was a healthy tan, and his eyes were a deep blue.

Peering closer to the glass, Anakin traced along his right eye. The scar he had once worn like a badge of honour was also gone. It saddened him a bit to lose this particular scar. Taken in the heat of battle against Asaaj Ventress, Anakin's Clone War scar had made him a man.

Lowering his eyes, Anakin knew why this scar, too, had to go. He had been prideful. He had reveled in the attention it garnered him when the HoloNet tabloids plastered his newly-scared image after the battle and dubbed him the Hero With No Fear. Most importantly, it was because he had _enjoyed_ taking her life, extracting payment far beyond what she owed. Anakin knew his badge of honour was, like the power he welded as a Sith Lord, an empty token.

Anakin's eyes wandered the room. Scattered books and mementos reminded him these were the rooms his former master, Obi-Wan, had taken in the Temple once they were no longer master and padawan. Despite the separation in the title, they had continued to share the rooms from time to time. In truth, Anakin had never secured his own quarters, but rather seemed to split his time between his former master's apartment and his wife Padmé's.

Anakin sighed. Of all the people he owed an apology to, Obi-Wan was one he owed the most. Going to the closet, Anakin found Obi-Wan's clothing hung with perfect care, his cloaks separated from his gis, and his polished boots lined up in rows. Anakin smiled. Nothing about Obi-Wan ever changed. Pulling on a pair of trousers that obviously didn't fit his tall frame, Anakin made do and dressed.

* * *

Coming out into the common room, Anakin found it, too, strangely quiet. He poked his head into the kitchen, but found it dark and silent. He stretched out his senses, and Anakin felt Obi-Wan's presence nearby, but he was unable to pin-point his old master's location. Palming the keypad of the door, Anakin stepped outside and found himself—

—In the middle of a forest glade. Not just any glade, oh no. He recognised the unique tall, red trees and tenebrous vines that grew between them. He was back on Endor. Anakin frowned and strained his senses. His nostrils flared at the smell of numerous bonfires and the wafting scent of cooking food.

"Arrived, you have, at last!" exclaimed a crackled voice from below him in the foliage. Anakin's head snapped down in surprise to find the voice's source. Master Yoda's green skin tone had blended him into his surroundings; however, the longer Anakin looked at the ancient Jedi Master, the more blue he seemed to sparkle.

"Come, come!" Yoda motioned with a taloned hand as he turned and propelled himself forward with his gimmer stick. "Others awaiting your arrival, they are!"

Anakin watched the glowing blue form move swiftly through the underbrush and apparently float its way upward into the Ewok villages.

"Master Yoda?" Anakin called back, perplexed. "Uh—wait!" He ran through the underbrush, but found that not a leaf reacted to his passing. At the base of the tree where Yoda had gone, Anakin reached for a vine, but his fingers passed right through it.

A bit surprised, Anakin stared at his outstretched hand. Like Yoda, it had a faintly bluish glow about it. And he could see _through_ it.

"Great." Anakin sighed, putting hands on hips that seemed solid enough to him. "I'm a ghost."

Anakin strained his neck to look upward. He watched a little blue figure move about above him. Yoda's cackling fits of giggles wafted down to his ears. "Very amusing!" Anakin shouted up at the diminutive Jedi Master far above.

"Rise yourself up, you must," Yoda called down to him, motioning a taloned hand. "Your ally, the Force is."

Anakin sighed, rolled his eyes and shifted the apparently nonexistent weight of his feet. "How does that toad expect me to—"Anakin mumbled to himself when suddenly he found himself lifting off the ground. "What the—?"

At first, Anakin struggled at his predicament, but then he looked up to see a column of blue light much taller than that of Master Yoda standing above. He blinked and stared in disbelief.

Anakin stared as the glow took shape before him. An older gentleman, his face a crisscross of lines like sand-weathered stone, stood on the walkway staring back at Anakin. As Anakin found his footing, the older gentleman eyes twinkled as he said, "Surely you haven't forgotten me, old friend."

Anakin continued to stare, not entirely sure of what to say. He dropped his eyes and swallowed, feeling like a padawan again who had stayed out past curfew. "You're—you're not angry at me?"

Obi-Wan straightened, hooking his thumbs in his utility belt. "That depends," he spoke, his eyes becoming stern, the colour shifting to steel.

Anakin looked into the old man's line-riddled features. Was his former master going to place conditions on him? Not that he didn't deserve it, of course, but...

Obi-Wan's eyes shifted colour again as a sorrowful look crossed his face and he said, "It depends on whether or not you're still mad at me, my friend."

"Mad at—?" echoed Anakin, at first perplexed. For a moment, he had almost forgotten the pain of the past two decades, the solitude of endless nights without rest, the cold longing of desires that remained unfulfilled. In a flash the memory of Anakin's anguish echoed back to him from the black shore of Mustafar: the growing grumble of anger at a man long dead as he learned the truth that his child had, in fact, survived his wife's demise. Anakin had hated Obi-Wan as passionately as he had loved him. Their tumultuous relationship had twisted and turned, entwining them with the same complexity as one's understanding of the Force.

Looking away, Anakin finally responded, "I don't deserve your forgiveness."

Even without looking, Anakin could almost feel that crease in Obi-Wan's brow deepening, his crystalline eyes set firmly on Anakin's stormy features. When the stern silence lasted longer than he was accustomed, Anakin's deep blue eyes flickered up to find his former master pondering the cloak he was wearing instead.

"Are you wearing my cloak?" Obi-Wan questioned with that rising lilt to the end of his remark, a trait Anakin had learned meant the older man was teasing.

"What did you expect me to do?" Anakin lifted his chin with defiance, a quirk of a smile playing at the edge of his lips. How easy this game between them was played. "Would you have me come out to greet you naked?"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows quirked up into his brow line, his mouth parting as if to answer.

Anakin jabbed a finger up pointedly as he dipped his head to sternly whisper, "Don't answer that."

The eyes of the two men met again, and although they both trained their lips into straight lines, their eyes twinkled with familiar playfulness. Oh, yes. How good it was to play this game again.

"Come to see, you should," Yoda exclaimed from his perch on a walkway post, his gimmer stick leaning solidly against mid-air as if it were in fact supporting weight. "Returned, he has."

Obi-Wan turned a step away from Anakin, but then cast his gaze back. Tilting his head slightly, he spoke in a hushed tone, "As much as I love you—and truly I do love you, Anakin, but—please—stay out of my pants." Obi-Wan's eyes glittered with amusement before taking his side next to Yoda.

Anakin looked down at his ill-fitted trousers as he realised what Obi-Wan had said—in front of Master Yoda's all-hearing elongated ears, no less. Anakin chanced a side-ways glance at the old Jedi Master to find Yoda smirking up at him. Oh, yes. He had heard.

Anakin's own smirk grew upon his face as he looked up across from Yoda to find Obi-Wan flashing a rare smile upon him. Now Anakin could hardly contain himself from bursting out. He pressed his lips hard together, feeling a warm flush upon his cheeks.

Anakin felt the presence of his son approaching, and he turned to see Luke beaming with pride and joy upon his father. Anakin felt his heart jump to see the boy—this man—so accomplished and confident. Against all odds, Luke put his faith in his father and in the Force, and with childish innocence had guided Anakin back to the light.

Feeling out of place for the focus of so much happiness and merriment, Anakin played with the hem of his robe. It didn't quite cover his hands as he used to wear it. He realised that there was no need. Anakin didn't feel cold or in pain or any physical discomfort as he had for most of his life. For the first time, Anakin realised he just felt loved.

Anakin looked back up and returned Luke's smile, just long enough to see Leia—his daughter, Anakin realised—spirit Luke away back into the fold of his living family of friends. With some regret, Anakin watched as Leia turned Luke away, she herself unable to see him as Luke had seen him. He stood and watched them laugh and talk, but he didn't feel sad. He knew that they had each other, and for the first time, Anakin realised that was enough. Luke's or Leia's abilities and their power to tap into the mysteries of the Force—none of that mattered except for the love and caring they had for each other and their friends.

Anakin closed his eyes. He had been wrong. He had not believed love was strong enough to save someone. He believed only in the harsh reality that power over others and brutality against those weaker than oneself was the way to control things. But slaughtering the Tuskens had not brought back his mother. Forcing Padmé to live a lie did not endure her to join him.

Anakin sighed, his shoulders slumping forward as he released his frustrations into the Force. Everything and everyone he ever knew was now gone, including himself. By the grace of the Force—or perhaps it was his punishment—his consciousness continued. He would be there to see his children, and perhaps their own as well, make a new and hopefully brighter future for themselves.

A large, firm hand gripped Anakin's shoulder. Like the insistent voice that had awoken him earlier, the grip was both strange and familiar, like the strains of a long-forgotten tune. Anakin opened his eyes and turned to look upon the presence behind him.

"Qui-Gon!" Anakin's voice breathed the name with as much reverence as astonishment. The Jedi Master's leonine features were framed by the same shimmering blue light as he and his other companions, yet at the same time, Qui-Gon's ethereal aura had a greater brightness to it, a quiet joyful energy of life that had not escaped his essence.

Qui-Gon's gentle smile assuaged Anakin's unspoken fears. "Yes, Ani. I was with you all those years."

Anakin glanced down, embarrassed. He had witnessed visions of Qui-Gon's form many times in the throes of his glitterstim addiction, a vice he took up to stay the unrelenting pain of his crippling injuries. He had begged Qui-Gon to release him from his self-inflicted prison, then railed against him when Qui-Gon failed to deliver him a reprieve. He cursed Qui-Gon and accused the Jedi of the cruelties of taking him from his home, the death of his mother, the abandonment of their principles, and worse.

"Ani, I would not have chosen Obi-Wan as your teacher if it were not the will of the Force," Qui-Gon answered Anakin's unspoken thoughts, an admonishment for all the years of accusations the boy had placed on him. "That is why it is he who shall continue your training in the Way of the Whills—"

"But, Master!" Obi-Wan interrupted, his voice raising an octave, making him sound much younger than the gentlemanly vision before them. "You said that—"

"I said," replied Qui-Gon forcibly with his characteristic gentle sternness as he slightly turned to face Obi-Wan, "the one who is most appropriate will train Anakin. By all measures, my former padawan, this person is you." Qui-Gon's midnight blue eyes focused directly into Obi-Wan's grey orbs.

Anakin watched the exchange with great interest. He noted the subtle changes in Obi-Wan's features, surprised to see vulnerability in the older man's eyes and uncertainty reflected within. Finally, Obi-Wan nodded his head in acknowledgement, but not with acquiescence of a man destined to fate. Instead, Anakin witnessed a man bestowed with a great honour, a warrior who had been given the right to carry the most elegant blade for his regent, a priest whose faith had been restored through the grace of his deity.

With a sly smirk, Anakin teased his newly-reappointed master, "It seems I will not be rid of you so easily, my master."

Obi-Wan's eyes shifted to look at Anakin as he returned the ribbing. "Nor I you, my padawan."

A quirky smile pushed up one cheek impetuously, and then the other over Anakin's face as he could no longer hide his joy for being able to share barbs with his old friend again.

"It is settled, then," Qui-Gon announced, patting both Anakin and Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Yoda and I will watch over the children."

Anakin turned and looked back over his shoulder. Much more time had passed than he realised, and the Rebel festivities were over. Dying embers smoked from the Ewok fire pits, and a mixture of skin and fur huddled together in slumber. A sentry walked past the sleeping warriors, and a lone couple remained awake at a distance.

Anakin could not hear what was being said, but Luke turned and looked directly at him. Leia's troubled features scanned the area, but obviously saw nothing.

"Will they be all right?" Anakin sighed. "Will they be able to rebuild everything that I had helped to tear down?"

A firm but gentle hand took Anakin by his chin and urged him to look once again on the taller man. Qui-Gon's deep voice reassured Anakin, "As sure as the suns will rise, your children's destinies are secure."

Anakin wasn't entirely sure Qui-Gon's answer was meant to be encouraging or not, but when the gentleman flashed a bemused look at him, Anakin realised it simply didn't matter. Life—and the Force—took care of itself.

Anakin smiled back, and Qui-Gon nodded to Obi-Wan. "Off you go, then."

Obi-Wan took Anakin by the shoulder and together they walked down the wooden pathway into the darkness.


	2. Release

**READER ADVISORY**

The following story contains adult themes and relationships between people of the same sex. If that's not something you like reading, there's plenty of other fics to peruse.

* * *

**PART 2 - Release**

After walking a ways in silence, Anakin paused and fumbled with his too-short robes. Obi-Wan stopped beside him and waited patiently as his younger companion picked at his hem.

"It doesn't seem right, does it?" Anakin asked, his head bowed, as he flicked his eyes up to peer through his lashes. "I betray my family, my friends, the Jedi—yet I'm healed and returned to my youth while you..." Anakin shrugged and looked away from the older man's aged face.

"What?" Obi-Wan cried in mock surprise. "D'you mean this old thing?" He spread his hands out, palms upward while his whole body shimmered more brightly in bluish-white light. Before Anakin's eyes, his mentor grew younger, lines of worry faded away, his hair returned to its golden reddish lustre, and his eyes sparkled with youth again.

When it was done, Obi-Wan appeared more as he had just before the Clone Wars, only without the weariness of death and destruction that had surrounded them at the time. "You're only as old—or as young—as you feel here, Anakin. Besides," the youthful-appearing Jedi's eyes glittered with amusement as he explained, "I didn't want to confuse the lad, wondering which handsome man was his father!"

A weary but bemused look crossed Anakin's face. "You know," Anakin admitted in a hushed voice, "I almost questioned that, myself."

"That's preposterous," Obi-Wan responded with a quirk in his brow. "I don't even like girls."

Anakin's smile broadened with embarrassment over his admission.

Placing a reassuring hand on his companion's shoulder, Obi-Wan stated, "Leia couldn't have gotten that stubborn streak from anyone but you."

Anakin raised his head, his features crossed with mock indigence. "Oh? _I'm_ the stubborn one?"

"Please, Anakin," Obi-Wan pretend to sound weary.

"Do I need to remind you of the events on Tas Mendahl, Master?" Anakin looked like he was holding back laughter.

"Now, please, Anakin."

The two men continued to look upon each other, as if locked in an eye-straining dare. Eventually, Obi-Wan's lips curled, and the lines around his eyes deepened. Anakin's lips parted to show off his broad smile, and the two men began to laugh.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan replied between chuckles. "She was a Hauturr. What was I supposed to do?"

"You could have agreed!"

"And risk losing my head?" Obi-Wan questioned with mock indignance. "I think not!"

The men laughed again, and Obi-Wan turned to a straw hut. He motioned toward the opening. "After you, my friend."

With a bit of curiosity, Anakin peered inside before he ducked down and went in—

—Where he found himself back in Obi-Wan's quarters at the Temple. Anakin whirled around to see Obi-Wan standing behind him, already shedding his cloak. The faint blue glow that had surrounded his master had also receded in this place where the objects around them were as real and solid as they appeared to be to themselves.

"How did you do that?" asked Anakin incredulously.

"Do what?" Obi-Wan sounded genuinely oblivious to the apparent miraculous thing that just happened.

Anakin gestured towards the durasteel door. "_That._ How did we go from Endor to here—like that!"

"Oh." Obi-Wan glanced at the door and back again to Anakin. "That. Well. I suppose that's our first lesson. You see, Anakin. We aren't what we appear to be. You're not Anakin Skywalker any more than I am a four-armed gundark."

Anakin echoed blankly, "I'm not Anakin Skywalker."

"And I'm not Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Anakin continued to stare at his master in incomprehension. Finally he said, "This isn't one of those sexual role-playing things, is it?"

Obi-Wan laughed. "Oh! No, no. Not at all. You see, Anakin, you and I—everything, really—is one with the Force—always. Our individual and separate identities are an illusion."

"An...illusion."

"That's right."

"So I'm—you."

"In a manner of speaking. A point of view, as it were."

A hardened look of contempt crossed the younger man's features as he turned away. "Like telling my son that I was his father's murderer."

Anakin felt more than saw Obi-Wan's shame. The older man looked at Anakin in surprise, then dipped his head in contrition. "I know to you it must seem a cruel thing to have told Luke, but—please—understand." Obi-Wan lifted his blue-grey eyes to plead. "I didn't want him to grow cold and distant to you."

Anakin's mouth twisted as he tried to bite back the bitter taste in his mouth as he remembered the hot black sands of Mustafar and the hazy image of Obi-Wan walking away as his own body burned. "Like you?"

With a sad frown etched in his features, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin's profile, the young man's eyes distant and his jaw set in anger. Obi-Wan walked around Anakin and forced them both to face each other.

"Forgive me, Anakin." Obi-Wan's hushed voice cracked as he spoke. "I—I love you. I have always loved you. I—I couldn't—" Obi-Wan stopped and put a knuckle to his lips to still the emotion leaking through his voice.

After a moment to collect himself, Obi-Wan continued, although he couldn't continue to look into Anakin's cloudy eyes. "I was torn between my duty and my love for you. Never could I have imagined you would have survived that inferno. Once I heard how you had endured—" Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the painful memory of the past, trying to shut away the horror he had faced every morning walking to the rise of the two Tatooine suns.

Anakin frowned, but not with anger. His face was filled with worry and sorrow. "Like me, you thought it was too late."

Obi-Wan's eyes rose sheepishly up to Anakin's. Silently, the older man nodded.

"And now?" Anakin questioned, his brow furrowed.

Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders and looked directly into Anakin's eyes. Reaching out, Obi-Wan took Anakin's right hand into his own and placed the again-flesh hand against his neck. He gently wrapped both hands around Anakin's arm and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.

Anakin's eyes widened as he watched Obi-Wan do this, as Obi-Wan demonstrated the level of trust he placed in his once-enemy's hands—literally. With a quick jerk, Anakin pulled his hand away.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in surprise to Anakin's reaction. Before Obi-Wan could speak, Anakin said, "I know you trust me. I...don't trust myself."

Obi-Wan frowned, and for a moment he looked again like an older man lost on the sands of Tatooine.

Anakin looked over his shoulder and sighed, sensing his friend's distress. He knew now he could not push aside his feelings and bluff his way into convincing Obi-Wan everything was okay. It was time the truth came out.

"Remember...Mustafar?" Anakin asked. From his peripheral vision, he saw Obi-Wan's brow quirk. As if either man could have forgotten. "I...imagine I seemed like a jealous lover. Afraid you were trying to steal away Padmé from me." Anakin turned and looked fully on Obi-Wan, and a flash of that youthful insecurity could be seen in the young man's eyes, the one Obi-Wan had seen time and time again as Anakin's abilities stretched and strengthened through his training, but never achieving the perfection he felt was necessary to his status as Chosen One. "I thought you had been the one who convinced the Council not to make me a Master. That you wanted to estrange Padmé from me so I wouldn't try to leave the Order."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms before him and began to understand Anakin's twisted mentality that had driven them apart. "You thought _I_ was jealous of _her_?"

"After what happened at the Battle of Yarlu," Anakin explained, "I thought you wanted me only for yourself. That was the reason, I thought, why the Council kept sending us together—because you asked them to."

Obi-Wan looked away with a pang of guilt. He hadn't asked the Council to keep Anakin with him after the boy's Knighthood—but he had wanted it. Anakin's ideas of a jealous lover were unfounded, but Obi-Wan had wanted the younger man by his side. He wanted to recapture the relationship he had lost years before when the Sith Zaberak had murdered his master Qui-Gon. Finally, he felt his friendship with Anakin would fulfil the hunger for an equal companionship he had longed to have with Qui-Gon, stolen in the breath of a moment.

But Obi-Wan never treated Anakin as his equal, always lecturing him, always seeing the little sand-swept boy, even in the cold of night when Anakin's hardened body rocked against his own to stay away the pain of loneliness and devastation of the dehumanising war. Even then, Obi-Wan relished the whimpering cries of his once-padawan, taking solace in having someone need him, want him with wanton desperation.

This, Obi-Wan realised, was why Qui-Gon chose him to teach Anakin again, just as he had the first time. It was Anakin who had taught Obi-Wan how to become a great Jedi. This time, Anakin would teach him how to be a better man.

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Obi-Wan made a decision and commanded, "Close your eyes."

Anakin looked back with surprise and trepidation. "What?"

"I said, close your eyes. If I am to train you, there needs to be trust between us—"

"This sounds familiar, " Anakin responded with a quirk to his mouth as he complied to his master's command. With eyes closed, Anakin felt Obi-Wan's gentle touches as he removed Anakin's cloak, undid his belt, and unwrapped his obi. Anakin's brow pressed together with worried curiosity. "What are you doing, Master?"

"Trust, Anakin," answered Obi-Wan, his voice easily conveying the humoured smile behind his mustache.

Anakin shivered as Obi-Wan's calloused hands spread open his gi and brushed against his bare skin. It had been a very long time since anyone had touched him in this manner, and Anakin's younger body found itself conflicted between natural response and his fear.

"Relax," Obi-Wan's measured voice purred, his face close to Anakin's neck, sending ripples up and down the younger man's spine as Obi-Wan's breath caressed him.

Anakin felt the heat of Obi-Wan's hands mere centimetres away from his flesh, driving Anakin wild. He desperately wanted to reach out and grab Obi-Wan and press their bodies together.

Obi-Wan sensed Anakin's passions and pulled away. "Patience," he instructed as Anakin panted, and the younger man instinctively reached forward toward the now-empty space where Obi-Wan once occupied.

Warm hands clasped Anakin's and pulled him forward. "Master?" Anakin questioned as he blindly followed Obi-Wan's lead.

"No peeking," Obi-Wan teasingly warned as they continued a winding trek across Obi-Wan's apartment.

"Turn here," Obi-Wan instructed as he navigated Anakin. As they stopped a moment, Anakin frowned when Obi-Wan again released his hands. The swish of a door indicated Obi-Wan was taking him into another room.

"A little to your right," Obi-Wan instructed. Anakin did as he was told, suddenly bumping into the door frame. "Oh! Sorry! I meant your other right."

Anakin rubbed at his bruised temple. He scowled in the direction of his master's voice, which was tinged with humorous embarrassment. Anakin reached out his hand, and was lead further into the new room.

Obi-Wan released Anakin's hands with a mumbled, "Hold on," and some grunts with the rustle of clothing. Continuing to keep his eyes closed, Anakin raised his chin and tried to explore the room with the Force. His master felt the tell-tale swirls of energy and stopped whatever he was doing to admonish, "No peeking!"

"I wasn't peeking, Master," Anakin explained. "Just curious."

"Curious, eh?" Obi-Wan answered with a bemused expression changing the timbre of his voice. Very suddenly, Anakin felt the older man's hands at the side of his trousers, and just as suddenly, they were pulled down to the tops of his boots.

"Master!" Anakin exclaimed, a smile curling upon his own lips. His body had decided that whatever Obi-Wan was up to, it was definitely going to be pleasurable, and acted accordingly.

Anakin felt a warm breath upon his growing cock—a fact which only strengthened the flow of blood to it—as Obi-Wan commented, "I knew I'd get you out of my trousers, one way or the other!"

"Master!" Anakin repeated with an embarrassed chuckle.

It was growing harder to keep his eyes closed, especially when Obi-Wan's tuft of hair brushed against Anakin's thigh. Anakin felt Obi-Wan's weight against him, his hands wrapped around one boot, as Obi-Wan commanded, "Lift your leg." Anakin placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder to keep balance and found bare skin at his touch.

After removing one boot and the leggings, Obi-Wan shifted his weight to the other foot, again commanding Anakin to lift his other leg. Anakin placed both hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders this time, reveling in the sensual feeling of his companion's tresses brushing against his own skin. His breathing quickened as he was freed from the last of his vestments, his member now fully hardened in anticipation.

"Master...," Anakin moaned, and then sharply inhaled when Obi-Wan's body disappeared again, leaving a swirl of cool air in his wake. "Master?" he questioned, his hands blindly seeking his absent mentor.

Strong hands grasped Anakin's right arm and guided him to turn. "This way," Obi-Wan instructed. "Watch your step."

Anakin smiled and chuckled again as he felt Obi-Wan's mustache and beard tickle his chest as Obi-Wan's body briefly pressed against his to reach for something, and he heard the distinctive sound of the refresher door closing behind him. "We're in the 'fresher!" Anakin exclaimed, his face beaming with amusement, although his eyes remained closed.

Anakin could just imagine Obi-Wan straightening himself to his full height, a look of barely hidden embarrassment written across his face as his master cried, "I said no peeking, Anakin!"

"Please, Master." Anakin dipped his head as he spoke. "I have other senses than just my eyes."

"Good," Obi-Wan replied, his voice echoing slightly off the titles as he turned away, "I'm counting on it."

The sound of water sputtered and burst merely a second before the water hit him. Anakin laughed, raising his hands in front of his torso as if to catch the falling stream pouring over him. Obi-Wan manoeuvred himself around Anakin and pushed him closer to the stream. The younger man continued to chortle and finally doused his head under the refresher's spigot, spraying water everywhere.

Anakin heard Obi-Wan chuckle behind him, the man's broad hands lightly pressed against his hips. Anakin's sex had wilted during their manoeuvrings, but the heat of Obi-Wan's obviously naked body pressed behind him reminded Anakin and his nervous system about the state of their undress.

Anakin squirmed around to face Obi-Wan, and with eyes only half-closed, he wrapped his arms around the older man and pulled them together tight. "Hmm. Good idea, Master."

Obi-Wan's hands snaked up between them and pushed himself away from Anakin. "Now, wait, my eager young padawan. Show some restraint! And keep your eyes closed!"

"Restraints?" Anakin tried to raise an eyebrow and practically giggled as he reclosed his eyes. "Oh, Master! If I had only known you liked it that way," he teased.

Anakin heard a sigh which he still remembered well—one which told him Obi-Wan had given him "that look" and shook his head with exasperation. The mock lecture he expected did not come, however, and instead Anakin was treated to the sensation of Obi-Wan's hands travelling over Anakin's wet body. His breathing quickened as Obi-Wan's palms traced along Anakin's neck to his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms. A shiver ran down his spine as Obi-Wan took his right arm and lifted it, gently messaging the muscle and sinew beneath the flesh.

Anakin tried to lean in closer to his lover, but like all his previous attempts, Obi-Wan held him at bay, this time with the gentle pressure against the side of his neck as the older man's hand travelled down Anakin's left arm.

Anakin sighed as their forehead's briefly touched and Obi-Wan's hands slowly traced down Anakin's abs and then diverted down his tapered hips to his sides. A slow moan escaped Anakin's lips as Obi-Wan's body lowered before Anakin's trembling form.

Obi-Wan's fingers slowly pried open Anakin's hands that he had inadvertently clenched into fists along his side. Realising Obi-Wan was doing all this to coax him to relax, Anakin deepened his breathing, using meditative techniques to relax his taught muscles.

Anakin heard a receptive grunt from his hip as Obi-Wan's hands moved downward to his legs. Instinctively, Anakin tensed up again as Obi-Wan's hands approached his right knee. With a deep breath, Anakin released his tension and tried to focus only on his master's expert touches.

Anakin hadn't felt such sensual pleasures for decades, and here was his Jedi Master eliciting an endless supply of it. Anakin felt as if he were alight with electricity. Everywhere Obi-Wan touched sent out ripples of pleasure like drops of water in a pond. At the same time, he felt unsure of himself, unable to take the pleasure of sensation his master was offering him for what it was and nothing more. It was Obi-Wan who had taken away Anakin's limbs and everything else that had made him a man. Anakin had suffocated under Obi-Wan's tutelage and the lost-love he had for Qui-Gon, as if fashioning Anakin into a picture perfect Jedi would appease the ghost of his former master and somehow bring them closer together even though they were parted by death.

Obi-Wan's hands guided Anakin to turn around and face the water again. He tried to focus his attention on the sensations of Obi-Wan's fingers gently messaging his muscles up his left leg, rising to touch just below his buttocks. Anakin's lips parted with a silent sigh. He was always a substitute for Qui-Gon, Anakin thought, for Obi-Wan. As much as the young boy Anakin had missed the mysterious and venerated Jedi Master, the growing man Anakin had become had been intensely jealous of the closeness Obi-Wan had shared with his former master, a chance Anakin never got to have.

Breathing heavily, Anakin willed his lower back muscles to respond to Obi-Wan's palm which circled and pressed there. The fingertips that rested along Anakin's left hip seemed to radiate a warmth deep into Anakin's core, as if trying to warm a long-dead coal inside of him. Focusing on his breathing, Anakin centred himself to that heat. Unlike the lightening strike that had been his dark master Sidious, Obi-Wan's power came from a slow gentle caress. He was patient and kind, and to an impetuous boy as Anakin had been, exceedingly stifling.

But had Obi-Wan stifled him? Or had he himself been the one to curtail his own path? Was it really the love Obi-Wan had for his dead master that had caused him to wrap his arms around a shivering boy in the shadow of the icy mountain on Illum? Was Obi-Wan truly jealous of Anakin's achievements in the bowels of Uras Nahl when they fought back to back to win their way into the light of day?

With a cleansing sigh, Anakin accepted Obi-Wan's hands, his presence, his breath, his very being that touched and caressed his broadened back. Anakin had deceived himself and no one else. He believed his master pined away for Qui-Gon all those years, when in fact it was really for Anakin himself, waiting for the boy to open up to the Force and become the fountain of potential Qui-Gon had once seen in him. Obi-Wan hadn't believed in Qui-Gon's vision—but he had believed in Anakin.

With a slow luxurious sigh, Anakin let go of the last of his insecurities. The eagerness of desire had left him, leaving him open to the sensuality of the moment. He felt Obi-Wan's body heat abandon him then, but he was not anxious. He trusted Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan moved to face Anakin, whose eyes remained closed, his whole face relaxed, his being radiating trust. The spray of water now behind him, Obi-Wan ignored the water dripping from his nose as he released himself of everything but this moment and the feelings within him into the Force.

Anakin gasped as he felt his whole being absorbing a tremendous light within the Force. Anakin had never experienced anything like its intensity before. Pin-pricks of pleasure flowed through every nerve, leaving a tingling that rippled from head to toe. It was like mini-orgasms erupting endlessly inside of him, and Anakin sighed blissfully, releasing himself to the overwhelming sensations.

Slowly, the feelings subsided, and just as slowly, Anakin opened his eyes to look upon his master beaming up at him. "Wh—" Anakin was barely able to mouth the words let alone breathe. "What was that?"

"That," Obi-Wan explained, water spraying down his back, his skin seeming to glow from the inside as Anakin looked upon him, "is what it feels like when two souls touch. It's our true existence, Anakin. You and I—the Force—everything—is an expression of love."

Anakin's gaze penetrated deeply into Obi-Wan's eyes, and for the first time he truly comprehended the complexity of his companion's love. Padmé had shared her bed, Palpatine his power, but Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan had shared his soul.

Rendered speechless by the memory of Obi-Wan's soul entwined in his own, Anakin accepted Obi-Wan's touch as they entwined themselves again in love.


End file.
